Play on, Hetalia!
by Krasavitsa
Summary: All the Hetalia countries have been invited to play their instruments in a concert for Hetalia Day. That is, if they can get through the first rehearsal! Strings break, nations fight, and overall hilarity ensues.
1. Ze Awesome Orchestra

**_I don't own Hetalia. Any musical terms will be explained at the end of each chapter. Enjoy!_**

* * *

_Congratulations! You have been invited to play in the Hetalia Symphony Orchestra for Hetalia Day! The first rehearsal will be this Saturday at the Austrian concert hall - the Vienna Konzerthaus. Your music is included in this envelope._

_Happy practicing!_

_-Hetalia International Committee of Music_

"Sweeeet!" America shouted as he took out the music. "We get to play Marukaite Chikyuu!" He put his feet up on the dashboard of England's car and waved the envelope in the Englishman's face.

"Seriously, America?" England frowned at the American as he turned onto the highway. "You just now are looking at your music? The rehearsal starts in an hour!"

The two nations were driving from their Austrian hotel to the Vienna Konzerthaus, where the rehearsal was, in fact, set to begin in an hour.

"So what? I'm sure the trumpet part won't be that hard!" America patted his trumpet case, then looked at his music for the first time. "Sheesh, it _is _hard! But I will conquer it...because I'M THE HERO!"

Unfortunately, America had shouted that last part right into England's ear! The car swerved suddenly into another lane as England cursed in pain. "YOU BLOODY IDIOT! What do you think you're doing, shouting in the car?!"

"But I'm the hero!" America made a frowny face.

"You don't have to announce it to everyone in the whole world!" England reached down and retrieved his bassoon, which had fallen from his seat when the car swerved.

America looked at the bassoon and snickered. "Why do you play such a boring instrument, England? The bassoon never gets anything good to play! Hey, do you wanna know why I play the trumpet?"

England scowled. Driving on Austrian highways was tricky, and America's nonsense chatter was just making it harder.

"Hello, England? You there? Earth to England!" America waved his envelope in England's face for the second time. "The trumpet is more heroic, that's why! Hahahaha! I'm so excited about the rehearsal! All the countries will be there! Even France! Are you excited? Hey, why do you look so annoyed?"

* * *

The Vienna Konzerthaus was a beautiful concert hall. Tall marble columns bordered the large auditorium, and the walls and ceilings were engraved in gold. And on the giant stage, lit by a dazzling chandelier, a German and an Italian bickered as they practiced their instruments.

"No, _Italien_! You must play zat faster, FASTER!" Germany shouted at the Italian playing the flute.

"But I cannot play any faster! I want to take a break from practicing! I want PASTA!" Italy wailed.

"_Nein! _I hid your pasta vhere you vill never find it! You can have ze pasta vhen you are done practicing!" Germany was annoyed. Italy would never get the song up to full speed at this rate, and time was running out before the rehearsal started!

"Let him have the pasta, _l'Allemagne_." France popped up behind Italy. _Why did France always pop up out of nowhere? _

"Shouldn't you be practicing_, Frankreich_? And vhat instrument do you play, anyway?"

France smiled. "Ah, _oui_, I play the viola d'amour!" He picked up his viola and began to cuddle it. Germany grimaced and turned away. _Viola d'amour. Typical. One would have thought he'd play the French horn or something._

"VE~! PASTAAA!" Italy had found where Germany had hidden the pasta, and was delightfully eating it, flute thrown aside.

"_Nein! NEIN!_" Germany rushed towards the Italian, tripping over his cello in the process. "Stupid cello! Useless Italy! STOP!"

"Ve! VE! VE~!"

* * *

Prussia peeked out from backstage to check out his "competition". _Yes! I'm the first violinist to get here! _he thought happily.

He looked around furtively, then sprinted to the concertmaster seat, where he then exclaimed, "I'M ZE AWESOME FIRST CHAIR!"

But before Prussia could sit down, he heard a squeak from the chair. _Huh? _He investigated the squeak. He looked on the chair. Nothing. He looked everywhere; in front of the chair, behind the chair, under the chair. Still nothing! Just to be safe, he looked on the chair again. _Canada!_

"Oh, hi, Canada! Sorry if I didn't see you zere! But, you know...you're kind of in my awesome Prussia seat!"

Canada looked up at the Prussian. "...," he said quietly. _Too_ quietly.

"Vhaa? I didn't hear zat!" Prussia leaned in towards the Canadian.

"_I was here first…" _he heard faintly.

"Uh, sorry, Canada, but I really vanted to sit here. You know, 'cause I've been practicing all veek and all…"

"_F-fine, you can sit here. I'll be 2nd chair…it's not like anyone will be able to see me anyway..." _Canada moved over a seat and allowed Prussia to take the coveted first chair.

"Thanks, Canada! You're so awesome!" Prussia settled into the chair and unpacked his violin. He cursed. _Out of tune…_Prussia was never good at tuning.

"I'll tune zat, Prussia!" Prussia looked up to see Austria standing in front of him, hand outstretched.

"V-vhat? _YOU? _Touch _my _vital regions...I mean violin regions… oh, never mind. But, NO VAY!"

"Vhy? I am so much better at violin zan you are! I can tune anyzing!" _There he goes again...Austria always liked to brag._

Prussia made a face. He untuned his violin until all the strings were half-falling off, then handed it over to the Austrian. "Try tuning zis!"

Austria tuned it in less than a minute. "Here you go, Prussia!" He smirked. Then, he went over to the large grand piano and began playing complicated chords on it. _Showoff._

A thought then struck the Prussian. If _Austria_, the most musical country he knew, was the pianist in the orchestra, then_ who was the conductor?_

All of a sudden, the door opened and the conductor walked in, waving a large black stick...ah, baton. Everyone gasped. _THIS was their conductor?_

* * *

_**End of chapter one! It seems that I am pretty good at writing as Prussia for some reason.**_

**_So, reviewers: tell me...who do you think is going to be the conductor?_**

_**Glossary:**_

_**Italien (German) - Italy**_

_**Nein (German) - no**_

_**l'Allemagne (French) - Germany.**_

_**Frankreich (German) - France**_

_**Oui (French) - yes**_

_**Viola d'amour (French) - "viola of love"**_

_**Musical Terms:**_

_**Concertmaster - the first-chair first-violinist, or the chair in which that violinist sits. As the highest-ranking seat in the orchestra, generally only the best violinists sit there. I really don't know how good of a violinist Prussia is, though...**_

_**Vienna Konzerthaus - a real concert hall in Austria. It looks just like I've described****...look it up!**_


	2. Don't Mess With Russia

**_And now, introducing the conductor of the Hetalia Symphony Orchestra..._**

* * *

The door opened, and Russia walked in, waving a large black stick...ah, baton. The nations all gasped in unison. "_R-Russia?_" _Russia _was going to be their conductor?

Apparently so. The large Russian walked into the room, followed by his entourage - the Baltics. The poor Baltics were nearly bent over with the weight of the boxes they were carrying. _Boxes_? America looked closer. The boxes were cases of sheet music, stacked higher than Latvia was tall. _What was going on here?_

"Baltics! Pass out music to everyone, da?" Russia ordered. He strode over to the conductor's podium and began polishing his baton.

America grimaced when he saw the music Lithuania gave him. "What the heck? _Russia's character song_?! I thought we were going to play Marukaite Chikyuu!" he complained. Lithuania replied by making a weird face at him and shaking his head. _Why is Lithuania making such a weird face? _Little did America know that Lithuania was trying to warn him about a certain Russian listening behind him...

America continued to denounce Russia's song. "I can't play this commie junk! I suggest a nice Democratic boycott! Let's all boycott this stupid, dumb, Commu-"

A hand suddenly grabbed the American's shoulder roughly from behind. America shrieked in surprise, a high-pitched, girly shriek that would be made fun of at every World Meeting for the rest of his life. "_EEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK!_ RUSSIA! What do you think you're doing?"

Russia tightened his grip on America's shoulder. "Never criticize my character song again, da, _Amerika_?"

America held up his hands in surrender. "Woah, Russia,you need to be less sensitive, dude! But, okay, I won't make fun of your special song." The Russian nodded and let go of America, who shivered. There was just something about Russia that was all cold and icy, and that feeling felt completely wrong to America.

* * *

Once all the music had been passed out, Russia tapped his baton on the conductor's stand. "I must make an announcement!" he said in his thick Russian accent. Everybody quieted down. Russia was already pretty intimidating, but standing on the podium like he was made the Russian seem even more scary to the nations.

"I am your conductor, da? And that means that I have control over what you play. So you will play my character song, because I am your conductor and I want you to play it. Da?"

"...da," everyone muttered. That is, everyone except for Prussia.

Prussia sprang up from his seat, his _first chair _seat, and shouted at Russia, "I'm too awesome for your stupid song! And I've been practicing Marukaite Chikyuu _all veek_, and I vant to play it _now_!"

Russia seemed to look confused. "So play it, then," he said simply.

Prussia played it. It actually sounded pretty good, in his opinion! Even _Russia_ was smiling, and that meant he liked it, right?

Wrong. To the Prussian's astonishment, Russia grabbed his violin _from_ _underneath his chin_ and threw it in a nearby trash can! Prussia exploded with rage. "HEY! Vhy'd you do zat? Zat vas my awesome violin!"

Austria snickered nearby. "Haha, he zrew your _vital regions _in the trash!"

Prussia blushed. "Shut up, Austria! My tongue slipped vhen I tried to say 'violin' earlier, I didn't actually mean to say 'vital regions'!"

"Sure you did," Austria smirked. "That's all you ever zink about!"

Russia strode over to Prussia, who was sticking out his tongue at Austria, and put his hand on the Prussian's shoulder. "Now you will play what I want you to play, da?"

Prussia scowled. "Only if you give me a new violin. And make it a Stradivarius zis time!"

"Prussia, vhy do _you_, of all people, need a Stradivarius?" Austria scoffed.

"Because I'm ze Awesome Prussia!"

* * *

Finally, all the nations began playing Russia's character song...some more grudgingly than others, of course. But after the "Prussia incident", the countries tried not to make Russia upset by playing a wrong note or missing a rest. They didn't want _their_ instruments to be thrown into the trash! But some countries were a little _too _nervous...

In the middle of the song, Russia angrily banged his baton against the stand. "STOP!" he yelled. The orchestra stopped immediately. Russia glared somewhere into the second-violin section. "It doesn't say to tremolo there, does it?"

Everybody in the orchestra craned their necks to see who Russia was talking to. It was the Baltics! They were shaking so much that their bows had begun to tremble, creating a tremolo sound. Russia asked again, "Do you see a tremolo there, my little Baltics?"

"N-no, sir," said Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia all together.

Russia smiled a creepy, childish smile. "Then _why were you playing one_?"

Latvia suddenly became bold. "W-we...we were playing a tremolo because we were sh-shaking so much, Mr. R-russia!"

Lithuania and Estonia exchanged a wary glance. Russia smiled again, but his eyes were full of rage. "And why were you shaking, _Latvija_?"

"Because w-we are so scared of y-you, sir!"

"LATVIAAAAAAAAAA!" Estonia and Lithuania wailed together.

Russia let out a deep, menacing growl. "Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol!" Latvia began to cry. Russia pushed his way through the second-violin section and pressed his hand down on the Latvian's head. "I will deal with you later, _Latvija_," the Russian hissed, then walked back up to the conductor's podium as if nothing had happened.

* * *

_**First of all, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed/followed this! Your reviews make me really happy!**_

_**The character song that Russia is making the nations play is Winter. I think this song is the coolest - and weirdest - Hetalia song I have ever heard! Listen to it! The lyrics make me think Russia is insane.**_

_**Glossary: **_

_**Da (Russian) - yes...as in "become one with me, da?"**_

_**Amerika (Russian) - America, obviously.**_

_**Latvija (Russian) - huh, I wonder what that means...LATVIAAAA!**_

_**Musical Terms:**_

_**Tremolo - when a string player repeats a note rapidly using a little amount of bow. Basically, what you would sound like if you played violin when you were nervous... **_

_**Stradivarius - a very, very expensive violin**_


	3. Make Pasta, Not Music

**_I don't own Hetalia (of course)._**

* * *

Germany wanted Italy to play his flute, but all Italy wanted to do was eat pasta! But every five minutes or so, to the Italian's annoyance, Germany would glance over at the Italian to see if he was eating any of the pasta stuffed under his chair. Luckily, Italy had devised a plan that he hoped would trick the German.

The plan was simple: Italy would grab a noodle, stuff it into his flute, and breathe in instead of out. This would ensure that the pasta would go into his mouth instead of staying under his seat, where it smelled amazing...yum, pasta! The hard part was making sure Germany didn't see. Germany was very good at catching Italy eating when he wasn't supposed to be.

When the music swelled to a crescendo, the Italian went into action. He shot a quick look at Germany, who was playing his cello with a scowl. _Good, he's not looking_. Italy quickly pulled a long strand of spaghetti out from under his seat, and began threading it through the hole in the end of his flute.

Germany's head turned. _Oh no! Time was running out! _Italy finished packing the pasta into his flute and sucked in frantically. _WHOOOSH! _The pasta glided easily through the flute and into his mouth. _Ve~! Yummy!_ And the best part was, Germany didn't see any of it! Italy reached under his seat for another piece of pasta.

Russia signaled for the orchestra to stop playing with a wave of his baton. He then began to blather on about "play this section with more emotion, da?" and "this is my character song, so it needs to be more expressive, da?", peppering his sentences with "da's" and various creepy threats towards the Baltics. Italy wasn't paying much attention to what the Russian was saying (it's not like he was really focused on playing his flute anyway), so instead, the Italian proceeded to eat more PASTAAAA~!

Russia continued lecturing the nations. "Look in the music! It does say here to play with emotion, da? (Lithuania, when we get home, you will practice until your fingers become one with me, okay?) See, it says _espress - espressi - espressivo_!" Russia stumbled over the Italian musical term. A strange mixture of rage and confusion began to appear on the Russian's face. "Italy, why is there a word from your language in my music?"

Italy was so shocked at being singled out by Russia that he blew out sharply in surprise. _This big scary man...asking _him _a question? _Unfortunately, Italy had been in the process of eating pasta at that time. And when he blew out, the pasta inside his flute shot out over the heads of the bewildered nations!

Mouths agape, the countries watched the spaghetti fly, as if in slow motion, towards its destination. Italy held his breath. Sure, it was funny the way the pasta burst from his flute, but it seemed to be getting awfully close to Germany…

* * *

Germany stared solemnly down at his cello as Russia addressed the orchestra. Of course, he knew that Russia got upset easily at the smallest things, but the German felt like the lecture was his fault. He could never learn to play with emotion; his playing was, at best, choppy and mechanical. At least Italy was playing well; Germany hadn't seen him eat any pasta at all during the whole rehearsal!

Suddenly, Germany heard Russia mention Italy's name. _Oh, mein Gott, vhat did he do now? _A collective gasp from the nations echoed in the room. _Vhat is going o-_

Something fell from the air and hit Germany's cheek! _Vhat the heck? _Germany grabbed whatever it was in his hand before it could fall to the floor.

_PASTA? _It was _pasta_! But how could that be possible? Italy wasn't eating pasta! Why…?

Germany snapped his head around and glared at the Italian, who immediately picked up a white flag and began to wave it frantically.

"_Italien!_" Germany shouted across the room. "Vhat do you zink you're doing?"

"I was hungry!" the Italian wailed. "I'm sorry, Germany, I couldn't resist!"

"I _trained _you for zis, remember? And you said you could do it! You said you veren't going to eat any pasta!" Germany sputtered.

Italy struggled to defend himself. "But, Germany, I can't play my flute when I'm hungry!"

"Yes, you can! See, _I'm_ not eating right now! _I'm _not hungry!" Germany's stomach grumbled loudly. "Okay, maybe I am. But I'm not _doing _anyzing about it!"

The nations watched, most of them entertained by the scene. _Most _of them. "Let's all get back to playing my song, da?" Russia tried to ask politely, but the other countries could tell that the Russian was on the verge of a breakdown.

Germany was beside himself. "_ITALIEN _!" he yelled. "YOU ARE DISRUPTING ZIS REHEARSAL!"

"_Non, l'Allemagne_," France called out from the viola section. "The only _personne_ who is disrupting zis rehearsal is you!"

"Yeah," America said loudly. "Maybe you should go outside and cool down a bit, dude!"

"Fine! I vill go! But, _Italien_, you must not eat any more pasta! You must play, play, play as vell as you can!"

With that, Germany stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. There was silence for a moment, then all the countries started talking excitedly about what had happened. Italy took the opportunity to eat more pasta, this time the normal way.

Russia tried to regain order in the orchestra, but could not make the talking stop until he grabbed Estonia's violin and threw it to the ground.

"HEY!" Prussia yelled, "Now you owe Estonia a Stradivarius, too!"

"No, I don't," Russia said simply. "He will play Lithuania's violin!"

"Then, like, what will Lithuania play?" asked Poland from the percussion section.

"He will play the same violin! Estonia will use the bow and Lithuania will do the fingering!" Russia answered.

There were many tangled arms and frustrated grunts from the second-violin section after that.

* * *

_**Haha, poor Baltics. Russia really likes to break other people's instruments, apparently. And he still owes Prussia his Stradivarius! **_

_**Another thank-you to all my reviewers, favoriters, and followers! Your encouragement means a lot to me.**_

_**Glossary:**_

_**Italien (German) - Italy**_

_**l'Allemagne (French) - Germany**_

_**Personne (French) - person**_

_**Musical Terms:**_

_**Espressivo - to play with expression and emotion**_


	4. Russian Ice-Skating

_**Watch as I enter the deep recesses of Russia's mind…let's hope I get out alive!**_

* * *

Russia loved being the conductor. As conductor, he had control over all the nations - control over when they played, how they played, when they talked, when they ate, when they could leave, when they could sleep - let's just say it was a job perfect for a Russian man who liked to manipulate people and intimidated others easily.

But how much control did Russia _really _have over the orchestra? He decided to find out! The nations were all talking now - it was their time to have a break - but the break would be over in about thirty seconds. And Russia would be the one to tell them to stop, and make them sit down, and make them pick up their instruments and play without stopping for the next half-hour...kolkolkolkol! The whole world was at his mercy!

Russia stood on the tall podium and banged his baton forcefully against the stand. _Clink! Clink! _Nothing happened! Everyone kept on talking. Russia caught snatches of conversation: "...and America screamed like a little girl!" "I wonder where Germany ran off to…" "...I vant my awesome Stradivarius!"

His baton wasn't powerful enough! Russia didn't have the control that he longed for! _What could he do? _

He hit the stand harder with his baton. And harder, and harder, and _harder_, until he was whacking the baton against the stand with all his might!

Silence.

Pure silence.

The nations of the world gazed up at him, open-mouthed. "_Is Russia insane_?" somebody whispered, Russia couldn't tell who. (It was Canada, by the way.)

So they thought he was crazy. Russia didn't mind; he was used to that! In fact, he thought _they _were crazy! None of them liked sunflowers, matryoshka dolls, or killing people. You had to be completely _insane _not to like sunflowers! Or matryoshka dolls.

But now he had control. As the countries looked up at him, they became one with his baton, and would willingly do whatever he ordered them to do.

* * *

Russia lifted up his baton delicately. The orchestra lifted up their instruments the same way. Russia put down his baton rapidly. The orchestra put down their instruments as fast as they could, some clumsier countries nearly dropping theirs. This was fun!

Russia decided to allow his nations - well, he guessed he could call them 'his nations' now, because they were under his control - to finally play. He lifted up his baton again, watching as the countries did the same with their instruments. He spread his arms apart and moved them up and down, back and forth - the signal for the orchestra to start playing. They did so, but it was _much_ _too slow_!

Russia's character song was _fast_.

_Faster! Faster! Faster! _Russia moved his arms in a circular motion as fast as he could. Hee hee! It sounded like the whole song was on fast-forward! Looking down at his music, Russia saw that the orchestra was about to come to a super-fast part in the song. He looked up to see how the nations would react.

Oh, it was so funny! A childlike smile spread across Russia's face as he took in the sight. There was America, blowing into his trumpet until he was practically blue in the face. Italy, stuffing pasta into his mouth as fast as he could. Prussia, sawing his bow across his violin (not a Stradivarius!) until his strings were actually cut in half! England, his fingers traveling up and down his bassoon at lightning speed, Canada, who he couldn't see but was sure was doing something entertaining, and France, who had given up and was lying half-collapsed in his chair.

And his Baltics! Oh, his silly, silly Baltics. Lithuania and Estonia looked completely frazzled as they balanced their single violin between their shoulders. Estonia was bowing as fast as he could and Lithuania was attempting to play the notes, but he really couldn't play them well because Latvia was in the way. Latvia was crying as he played, glancing up at Russia ever so often as if he was making sure the Russian was actually serious about this otherworldly tempo.

So it was a little too fast for his nations, da?

Russia dropped his arms, signaling the orchestra to stop playing. It did, yes, it stopped, but with some...'repercussions'. Well, only one, really...Prussia flew out of his seat from the sheer speed of his playing and hit Austria's piano, causing the keys to make an awful sound. Austria, while shouting at Prussia, accidentally hit a music stand with his frantically gesturing arms and it fell onto another music stand, creating a domino effect that resulted in every music stand in the room falling over. Nations yelled, music scattered everywhere, and..._the music looked like snow! _

Russia _loved _snow!

* * *

"_SNEG_!" he shouted happily, as he hopped off his podium and ran to the center of the room, where the sheet music flying through the air did indeed resemble snowflakes.

Russia was a child once again, skating on the beautiful ice that was his favorite part of the cold yet wonderful Russian winters. Oh, how he wished his older sister Ukraine could see him now, as he leaped and spun on the glistening frozen snow. He saw other countries pointing at him through a brilliant snowy fog, as if they were marveling at his talent. He had to admit, it was fun to show off once in a while. Maybe, when he went home from the frozen pond, Ukraine would bake him some yummy cookies in reward for how well he'd skated! Just the thought of her delicious food made him want to jump some more, to do an arabesque and swirl around the ice like a beautiful ballerina-

The door opened, scattering the "snow" around the room. Then it slammed shut with a bang, as if the person who'd opened it was too surprised to close it properly.

* * *

"What the heck-aru? My plane is one hour late and what do I find: the room a mess, instruments everywhere, and Russia dancing ballet on top of a chair?"

The nations stopped their loud chaotic...whatever-they-were-doing, something involving the Bad Touch Trio and a pasta-eating contest(?), and looked around.

Sure enough, Russia was twirling around on one foot with his eyes closed. "_Cookies_," he sighed dreamily.

The countries exploded in laughter, but were immediately silenced by a nasty look and a threatening, "Kolkolkolkolkolkol!" from the Russian.

A smirking America whispered to Prussia, "I didn't know the commie danced ballet!"

"IT'S NOT BALLET, IT'S ICE-SKATING! KOLKOLKOLKOL!"

"Oh...sorry, Russia dude!" said America, still half-laughing.

Russia shook his head as if to clear it, then stomped back up onto the podium and raised his baton.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing-aru?" An angry China was clutching his _own _baton, which was a brilliant shade of red, and was glaring at the Russian.

"I'm the conductor, da?"

"No you're not-aru! _I'm _the conductor! My plane was late, that's why I wasn't here earlier! So go somewhere else, Russia, it's _my _turn to conduct!"

"Nyet, China. I was here first. This is _my _orchestra, not yours."

"No!"

"DA!" Russia grabbed the closest thing to him - Latvia's violin - and threw it at China. He missed, but it was the final straw for the Chinese man, who angrily threw a music stand back at Russia.

"WORLD WAR THREE!" the nations of the world shouted joyfully.

* * *

_**Kolkolkol, Russia is always so much fun to write! He's super over-possessive and creepy, but he really is nothing but a child inside. The only bad part is that I keep thinking like Russia now...the world will become one with me, da?**_

_**Thank you to everyone who became one with my story...ah, I mean everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited! **_

_**Glossary:**_

_**Sneg (Russian) - snow**_

_**Nyet (Russian) - no **_

_**Da (Russian) - yes **_


	5. French Grammar is Weird

_**I'm so sorry I haven't updated recently! I actually got an idea for another fanfiction in the middle of writing this, so naturally I had to write it down before I forgot it. :) So if you like Russia, Lithuania, and angst, check out my story 'Forgive Me, Litva' to see if it was worth the wait!**_

* * *

The tension in the orchestra room was nearly unbearable. Russia and China were glaring at each other with pure contempt in their eyes, and England could have sworn that black smoke was coming out of their ears. No nation dared to speak or even breathe. The room was so quiet, one could even hear Canada yawn!

But this fragile moment was lost when America and Prussia began yelling, "WORLD WAR THREE! WORLD WAR THREE! Everybody pick a side and fight! This is our chance to be AWESOME HEROES!"

Any chance of peace and quiet immediately deteriorated. Countries madly rushed to get to whatever nation's "side" they were on, pushing and shouting and pretty much acting like wild animals.

And how did Russia and China respond to this? Well, Russia was flattered. "Oh, look at all the little nations who want to become one with me!" he cooed, half-smothering Hungary and Switzerland with a big hug. "Vodka, anyone?" he offered genially.

China, on the other hand, was annoyed, and tried to push back the crowd of countries with his wok. "Stop mobbing me-aru! I just want to take my rightful place as conductor!"

Nations scurried back and forth between sides, creating an area of pandemonium in which England, shocked and befuddled, stood in the middle. "What is the meaning of all this? Why can't we just pick a conductor in a civilized manner?" he shouted to anyone who would listen.

A hand abruptly grabbed England's arm and began to pull him over to China's side. "What the-" England sputtered as he was dragged against his will. He looked up to find the one face he was trying to avoid all day.

"France! What-?"

"Ah, _l'Angleterre_!" France smirked as he saw the Englishman's confused face. "I zink you will do better in ze war if you side with _moi_, _la France_!

"A _war? _There's going to be a _war?_" England wasn't in the mood for a war, especially not with annoying people like America and France around.

"_Mais oui!_" France ducked suddenly as China lashed out at the jostling crowd of nations with his wok, which subsequently hit England in the forehead.

"Ow!" yelled England, massaging his head. But the sharp pain in his forehead made him remember being forced to learn French as a child during the French occupation, which often gave him a headache… "Er, France. You said earlier, 'la France'. Doesn't that mean you're referring to yourself as..._a w-woman?_"

"_Oui, oui, l'Angleterre_," France smiled. "In the magnificent language of _français_, there are genders for every noun, including countries. So I am _la France_, which is indeed a feminine noun."

England nodded dubiously. "So, does that mean that..._you're a girl?_"

"_Non, _it is merely the gender of my name. Not that there is anything _wrong _with being a girl, of course. There is nothing more beautiful than the naked body of a -"

"Stop, _stop!_ I don't need nor want to hear that. So, what am I - a 'girl noun' or a 'boy noun'?"

France dodged China's wild wok again, then answered. "_l'Angleterre...la Angleterre..._it is a feminine noun!"

"WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOUR LANGUAGE!?" England shouted angrily. "I refuse to be called a _girl!_"

"It is not zat _you_ are feminine, it is zat your _name _is feminine!" France explained in annoyance. "See, a lot of countries are feminine nouns. _l'Italie_, for example, is feminine. _l'Allemagne_, Germany, is feminine. _Les États-Unis_, America, is...well, America is a masculine noun. But, as I said-"

"Ohh, so _America _is masculine and I'm not? Okay, so if _that's _how you want to do it." England grabbed a violin bow from the floor and furiously jabbed it at France.

"Oh, so you are getting violent now!" France observed as he ducked England's wild stabs of the bow. "You may not know zis, but I am very experienced with ze art of fencing!" He held up his viola bow, kissed it once, and started dueling with England.

The two bows swished through the air and connected with each other with a _clink! _England cursed, and France laughed. "Ohonhonhonhonhonhonhon! You will never beat me!" England tried in vain to hit any part of the Frenchman's body with his bow, but France twisted and escaped his attempts.

_Clink! Clink! Clink! _The swordfight became more and more violent. At one point, England "pulled a China", as one might say, and threw a music stand at France. France merely threw the music stand back at the offending Englishman and jabbed angrily with his bow. Dust and dirt from the floor piled up around the fighting nations until it surrounded both of them.

Suddenly, the bows were pulled out of both countries' hands, and the fighters were separated. An angry China looked down at them. "If you want to fight-aru, one of you needs to go to Russia's side. The war is about to start!"

England glared at France. "Fine, I shall go! I actually wanted to be on Russia's side anyway, but _you _dragged me over here!" He stormed away, muttering under his breath. "_Flying Mint Bunny, at least _you _understand…_"

China looked quizzically at France, who shrugged. "I was only trying to teach him the French language, zen he just completely freaked out!"

* * *

_**Haha, I love it when France and England fight! I got the idea for this chapter when I was learning names of countries in my French class, and the genders didn't match the Hetalia characters' genders. So I thought, "How would the Hetalia countries react to this?", and here is the result!**_

_**Glossary:**_

_**l'Angleterre (French) - England**_

_**Moi (French) - me**_

_**la France (French) - France**_

_**Mais oui (French) - That's right/Of course**_

_**Oui (French) - yes**_

_**Français (French) - French**_

_**Non (French) - no**_

_**l'Italie (French) - Italy**_

_**l'Allemagne (French) - Germany**_

_**Les États-Unis (French) - United States/America.**_

_**Chapter 6 Preview: **__**The ultimate showdown between nations! Who will win the coveted spot of conductor? Satisfy your longing for crazy international chaos with violin bow-fighting, broken music stands, and flying Latvians!**_


	6. Flying Latvians

_**WWIII has begun! I have to say that I'm sorry for any nation's discomfort in this chapter (*cough-Latvia-cough*), but...it had to be done.**_

_**I do not own Hetalia!**_

* * *

While the whole England-France debacle was happening, all the other (semi-)normal countries were beginning to get fanatically attached to whatever side they were on, whether it was Russia's side or China's. Of course, the nations easily got carried away.

"ARU! ARU! ARU! ARU! ARU!" cheered the exuberant countries on China's side, to China's disgust.

"Please stop making fun of the way I speak-aru!" China complained. "Couldn't you just say, 'Go, China!' or something _normal_? I don't even know why we have to have this stupid war. I just want _Russia-aru _to let me be the conductor!" China glared at Russia and made a rude gesture.

The overenthusiastic nations merely yelled louder. "ARU! ARU! ARUUUUUUU!"

Across the room, Russia's "followers" were slightly..._less _enthusiastic. But Russia was the most fervent of all the nations in the room! "Mother Russia will win, da? I _always _win! I will take my rightful place as Ruler of the World! _Right_, little nations?"

"Y-yes, of course, Russia!" the nervous "little nations" replied.

Russia smiled contently. "Good, good." He strode over to China and grinned creepily. "When should we start our little war?"

The Chinese man scowled. "How about now? Let's get this over with." He took out his wok and started swinging it around, stepping closer to the Russian with each rotation. Russia, in turn, grabbed his faucet pipe and pointed it in the direction of the Baltics, who immediately turned pale.

"Uh...Russia-aru?" a confused China asked. "Aren't you supposed to be fighting _me_?"

Russia looked surprised. "Ah, yes, I forgot. It's a habit, I'm sorry." He turned away from the Baltics and faced China with the pipe. "I will win, da?"

"Never-aru!" China flung his wok at Russia. Russia deflected it with his pipe. Then, war broke out all around the room.

* * *

Austria tried to catch his breath as he dodged flying pieces of pasta. Who knew that Italy could fight so well? And it seemed like the Italian was only targeting _him _for some reason. Then again, maybe Italy was just flinging pasta around for fun. He didn't look that interested in the war, and seemed to be dozing off...

Everything suddenly went dark. _What the heck?_ _Was he dead? _Austria began to panic, running through all the reasons why he could have died. _Was the pasta poisonous? Was the world ending? _A familiar laugh brought him back to his senses.

"Kesesesesesese! You look so funny and stupid right now!" _Prussia._ _Of course. _The Austrian fumbled towards the laugh, stretching his hands out in front of him so he wouldn't bump into anything.

"Zis isn't funny, Prussia!" he called out. "Vhat did you do to me?"

Two hands gripped his shoulders, stopping Austria from walking any further. Prussia spoke, voice shaking with laughter. "I put a paper bag over your head! And you thought you vere going to _die_! Kesesesesese!"

Austria mentally facepalmed. Why was it that Prussia always made him look like a fool? "Just take zis stupid bag off my head, and let's get on vith ze var!"

"Oh, but zis _is _ze var! You're on Russia's side, and I'm on China's! And I already took a million pictures of you vith the bag over your head, so it's too late to pretend it didn't happen."

_Stupid Prussia. _Austria sighed in defeat. All he'd wanted to do was play some piano without any distractions, then this war started and ruined everything. Maybe when this was over he'd go take a nap…

He felt a tug on his arm; Prussia was pulling him over to the other side of the room. "Hey, look, guys! Ve got us a prisoner!"

The sound of France and Spain's laughs only added to his humiliation.

* * *

Latvia wrung his hands and trembled, moving the chair he was hiding under slightly. This was hopeless. Why on earth would someone start a _war _during an _orchestra _rehearsal? And it had all started out so nicely...

_A childish voice woke Latvia up from his sleep. "Wake up, my little Baltics! We're going to play in an orchestra, da?"_

_Latvia yawned and opened his eyes. "Mmm...whaaa-?"_

_Russia grinned. He picked up Latvia and threw him into the trunk of his car, along with Lithuania, Estonia, and their violins._

"_Nooo, please don't hurt my violin!" Estonia shouted in vain, as Russia threw it at his head._

_Then, all three Baltics were bombarded with boxes and boxes of sheet music. "It's my character song," Russia explained as he closed and locked the trunk, resigning the Baltics to a long and painful drive to the concert hall in the dark. _

Latvia shivered. Maybe his day didn't start out so nicely after all. It certainly didn't get much better, that's for sure. Latvia couldn't even play his violin now because _Russia _broke it when he threw it at China! In fact, with Estonia's violin broken too, the Baltics only had one instrument between the three of them.

The chair was noticeably shaking now. Latvia squeezed his eyes shut when he heard the sound of voices approaching him.

"So after ve make Austria be our devoted servant, vhat should ve do ne - Hey vhat's up vith zis chair?" someone with a German accent asked.

"I don't know," a French voice replied. "It looks like it's shaking, but that could not make sense, _n'est-ce pas?" _

"Look, there's a kid under there!" said someone with a Spanish accent.

Latvia and the chair shook violently as the Bad Touch Trio moved closer.

* * *

Meanwhile, Russia was feeling discouraged. There was a strong chance that he was going to lose the war, and that couldn't happen to Russia, da? But after China grabbed his faucet pipe and threw it in the trash, everything started to go downhill. Russia just couldn't keep up the fight without his favorite weapon.

Dodging another attack by China and his wok, Russia glanced around the room to see how his nation-soldiers were doing. Maybe at least one of them would be doing better than him...

He saw England and France fencing with violin bows, Romano eating a tomato, Estonia and Lithuania reading a book about the fall of the Soviet Union and whispering urgently to each other, and the Bad Touch Trio surrounding a violently-shaking chair.

_Huh?_ Russia moved closer to inspect the chair. _Could it be...his little Latvia? _

Prussia looked up him and scowled. "Vhat are _you _looking at, _Russland?_"

The chair shook harder as Prussia said Russia's name. _Yes, definitely Latvia. _

Russia pushed past a half-naked France and peeked under the chair. A pale Latvian looked up at him with wide eyes. "Ah, h-hello, Mr. Russia!"

Before Russia could say anything in return, he felt a sharp pain on his neck, then an unpleasant choking sensation. He turned around to discover a savage-looking China pulling on his scarf.

"Haha-aru! I will finally win this war and beat you!" the Chinese man exclaimed triumphantly.

"Let. Go," Russia growled. China merely pulled harder on the scarf.

Russia choked and sputtered. _No one _touched his scarf. Not China, not Prussia, not even the Baltics.

_The Baltics. _Russia suddenly got an idea. He took a deep breath and _roared _an enormous, "Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol!"

Chairs, instruments, and music flew everywhere from the sheer power of the sound. The Bad Touch Trio scampered away from the furious Russian, but China still managed to hold on to his scarf somehow.

_Good. _Russia commenced with the second phase of his plan. He plucked the chair away from the trembling Latvian, and treated him to his best insane smile. Then, he picked up Latvia with both hands, and _threw _him across the room like a football.

Every nation's eyes went to the screaming country as he flew through the air. Estonia let out a loud "LATVIAAAAAAA!", then promptly fainted into Lithuania's arms.

While China was distracted, Russia yanked his scarf out of the Chinese man's arms. He then stalked off to the trash can and retrieved his faucet pipe. It was time to win this war for good.

* * *

Latvia's eyes bulged as he flew over the heads of all the nations. He screamed until he had no voice left to scream. _He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to - _

_THUD. Ooof. _Latvia looked around in confusion. He was on the floor, but he wasn't dead. _How could that be? _And he had landed on something soft…

A groan came from beneath him, then a muffled voice. "_Get...off…"_

Latvia looked down, then did a double-take. "...Estonia?"

Estonia squinted up at him through his glasses. "Get off, Latvia! You're crushing me!"

He certainly was being crushed. Estonia was squished between Latvia and...and _Lithuania? _Latvia jumped up off of Estonia in surprise. Yes, Estonia was lying on top of Lithuania, who obviously very uncomfortable as he tried to not be flattened by the weight of two Baltics.

Trembling with leftover fear from his flight, Latvia shakily helped Estonia off of Lithuania. Then, both Baltics took hold of Lithuania's hands and lifted him up as well.

Lithuania thanked Latvia softly (and cursed Russia under his breath), then looked down at the floor and gasped.

He had fallen onto his violin, crushing it into unrecognizable shards of wood.

* * *

_**Oh, the Baltics. They're my favorite characters, so why must I torture them so much? Anyways, the war isn't over yet! But Russia is angry…**_

_**Glossary:**_

_**N'est-ce pas (French) - right**_

_**Russland (German) - Russia**_

_**Thanks to all the people who reviewed/followed/favorited so far! (and I wouldn't mind if you reviewed some more!)**_


	7. Russia isn't Communist

_**Do I own Hetalia? No, I don't.**_

* * *

In a corner far away from all the fighting, Canada sat on the floor with his head in his hands. He had come here because everyone kept tripping over him, and because there's only so much harm an invisible Canadian could do to the other countries before feeling stupid.

Canada didn't really have any reason to pick a side, but he had chosen China's because he wanted to get revenge on Russia for always sitting on him in world meetings. Of course, the Russian didn't even know he existed, but...it's the thought that counts, right?

Canada was certainly _not _one of China's "cheerleaders", though. He didn't see any point in yelling "ARU ARU ARU" at the top of one's lungs, and it only made the Chinese man annoyed. America, on the other hand, was perfectly fit for the job. Canada looked up and half-expected to see the American jumping around and yelling like he always does for football games.

Instead, he saw America approaching him with a pitiful look on his face. The American walked miserably towards Canada, trumpet in hand, and slumped down against a wall. _This_ was strange. Usually America _loved_ wars and fighting!

"A-america," Canada began, trying especially hard for his voice to be heard over the loud shouts of the other nations.

America looked up, seemingly surprised. "What? Did someone say my name?"

"Yes," Canada said. "Why are you over here and not fighting?"

"Huh? Who's talking to me?" America put a hand to his ear and leaned towards the Canadian.

"It's me, Canada!" said Canada, annoyed. He was even more annoyed when America jumped up and started screaming.

"GHOSTS! GHOSTS! GHOSTS IN THE ROOM!" He ran around in circles, batting at the air with his trumpet.

"America…" Canada whined in frustration. Either America couldn't see him, or he was beginning to see imaginary creatures like England did!

The American calmed down eventually, but not before he got many strange looks from the other countries. He sat back down on the floor, the pitiful expression reappearing on his face.

Canada, fed up with being ignored, walked over and tapped his brother on the shoulder. Of course, America flinched. "G-ghosts…" he whimpered.

Canada sat down next to America. "America, it's just me!"

Recognition dawned in the American's eyes. "Oh, Canada! Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Canada facepalmed. But his invisibility wasn't his first priority now. "America, why are you here instead of fighting the other nations?"

America looked miserable. "I...I can't choose a side to fight on."

"You _what?_ Why?" _America, having social problems? _That _was a first!_

"I...well, the two sides are China's and Russia's, right?"

Canada shrugged. "Yeah. But what's so bad about that?"

America wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to fight for any of them."

"Why?" asked Canada again.

"Because they're _Communist!"_ America yelled, and put his face in his hands.

_Oh, so _that's _what all this was about. _Canada could never understand America's hatred of Communism, especially since the USSR had dissolved nearly 25 years ago. The only other Communist threat to America was North Korea, and everyone knew that he was just full of hot air.

But America had said _Russia _was Communist! Canada knew America tended to forget obvious facts about history and geography, but this was insane.

"America, you're making too much of a big deal out of this!" Canada said. "Yes, China's Communist, but it's not like he's _Stalin-_Communist. And Russia, well, the Soviet Union broke up nearly twenty-"

A blast of icy air made Canada shiver. He looked up from where he was sitting to see Russia standing frighteningly above him, complete with trembling Baltics in tow. "You are talking about me, da?"

Well, for all his talk about the Soviet Union breaking up, Canada could have sworn that Russia still acted like it existed. "N-no, I wasn't talking about you...I was just saying that the Soviet Union-"

"You know you were talking about me, _Matvey_." Russia's use of Canada's "Russian" nickname made the Canadian turn pale and America scowl.

"Go away, you stupid Commie!" shouted the American. "Stop bothering Canada."

"It's fine, America…" Canada sighed in exasperation. "I can handle this."

Russia smirked. "Hurry up, or I will have to use my new favorite "weapon" against you!" He gestured towards the Baltics, who flinched and stepped back. Latvia stifled a sob.

"Ah, no, that's okay," said Canada hurriedly. He shot a glance at America, who was clenching his fists and mumbling angrily under his breath. At this point, Canada feared for the Russian.

Trying hastily to divert a new Cold War, the Canadian quickly changed the subject back to what it was before. "All I was saying about you was that you're not Communist anymore. America still thinks-"

"Well, Amerika is wrong," interrupted Russia. "I am a _democratic, capitalist _country, just like him." Was it just Canada's imagination, or did Russia say that in a mocking tone of voice?

"Oh yeah?" America challenged. "Then why did you close down all the McDonalds in your country?"

"Just because I'd rather not get food poisoning from your disgusting American food doesn't mean I'm still Communist!"

"I thought your citizens _liked_ my "disgusting American food!"

Canada, stuck in the middle of the two nations' argument, tried to make peace. "Ah, A-america...maybe you should-"

"There's a reason why McDonalds is in over 100 countries, and that's because it's _good_," yelled the American, completely ignoring Canada.

"Really. It seems that you _forced _your food into more than half of those countries, da? China still won't go _near_ french fries because of the food poisoning he got from it."

Canada gave a sympathetic look to the Baltics, who seemed to be as overwhelmed with the situation as he was.

"Well, Russia, I think I'm going to fight against you in the war now. And prepare to _loooooose_!" America shouted, sticking his tongue out at the Russian.

"Nyet, _you _will lose. I will go get my faucet pipe, and then we will fight." Russia turned on his heel and walked away, the Baltics following behind him rather pathetically.

Once the former Soviets were out of sight, Canada turned to America. "What have you done? You've practically started another Cold War!"

America shrugged. "He deserved it."

Canada wrung his hands in frustration. "But-"

The American laughed. "Hahaha, I guess this means I'll be fighting on China's side, then! How ironic."

Just then, the Chinese man walked up to America. "I'm glad you've joined my side, America-aru! And have you heard about the new changes to my one-child policy?"

America swallowed. "Wait - you mean your _Communist _one-child policy?"

"Yeah, what else do you think it is-aru?"

America shook his head as if to clear it. "Communism, Communism, Communism, that's all anyone ever talks about! I think I'm better off just hanging with you, Canada!"

Canada smiled. "Aww, thanks, Ameri-" He blinked to find that his brother had already run off and was now fighting with Russia, using his _trumpet _as a sword.

_Oh, America. _Canada watched him fight for a while, then settled into his spot in the corner to practice his violin. At the rate this was going, he planned on being there for a while.

* * *

_**It's true - Russia really did close McDonalds! At the end of the summer, the Russian government closed nearly half of its McDonalds restaurants for "health violations". Most people, however, think Russia closed them in retaliation for the economic sanctions America put on Russia because of the Ukraine crisis. McDonalds is actually very well-liked by Russians, and it was even a sponsor of the Sochi Olympics!**_

_**China's One-Child Policy is a government rule that limits the number of children a family can have. This was supposed to stop the population from growing too much, but it hasn't made much difference. Recently, the policy has changed to allow families to have two children if one of the spouses is an only child.**_

_**I want to thank everyone who reviewed this story! Chapter 6 is my most popular chapter so far, and I'm glad you all enjoyed it. Latvia thanks you for your compassion. :) Review some more, da?**_


	8. Tortured with Viola

_**I don't own Hetalia.**_

* * *

_Stupid Bad Touch Trio, _Austria thought as he tried in vain to escape from his bonds. Basically, what was keeping the Austrian captive was a falling-apart orchestra chair and duct tape...with pictures of _Gilbird _on it! Yes, because Austria _loved _looking at Prussia's pet bird while being publicly humiliated.

"Hey, look, ze prisoner's awake!" Austria grimaced as he saw Prussia's excited face. "Ve vere busy terrorizing a little kid, but now ve're ready to terrorize _you!_ Kesesesesesese!"

"_Euh, la Prusse..._" France said. "I don't zink _la Lettonie _is a 'little kid'. He is, in fact, fifteen years old."

"Huh? 'La Lettuce?' Vhat ze heck, France, are you hungry?" Prussia responded.

Austria shook his head at the Prussian's ignorance. If Prussia had studied languages like Austria had, he would have known that 'la Lettonie' was 'Latvia' in French. But no, all Prussia had cared about when he was younger (and still now) was war. It was no wonder he was the most annoying, stupidest-

"_Hola, _Austria!" Hands grabbed the Austrian from behind and he jumped. _No, not Spain, please! _

The Spanish man chuckled. "Do not be worried, Austria! We won't kill you. But we _will_ humiliate you more than it is humanly possible! Fusosososo!"

France broke in. "_Oui,_ and Prussia wants to ask you for something, too."

Austria rolled his eyes. "Vhat?" he growled.

Prussia laughed. "Guys, not yet! I vant to have at least _some _fun vith him first!"

Austria sighed and busied himself trying to rip off some of the Gilbird duct tape. Of course, it didn't come off. The Austrian was stuck here, and would have to submit to the Bad Touch Trio's every whim.

"So what should we do with him first?" Spain asked.

"Let's torture him, zen invade his vital regions," said Prussia.

"_Non, _we should introduce him to the art of _l'amour,_" France suggested.

Spain grinned. "Wait - I have a better idea!" He whispered something to France and Prussia, who immediately laughed their trademark laughs and flashed Austria creepy Russia-esque smiles.

Austria groaned. There was nothing worse than being helpless in the hands of these nations.

* * *

France chuckled to himself as he searched for his viola in the midst of all the rubble. What an ingenious plan that Spain came up with - torture by bad music! For the first time, the Frenchman's horrible viola skills would come in handy.

France looked under a chair to find his viola looking as pristine and beautiful as ever. From what he could tell, it was even still in tune! That was an added bonus, seeing that Prussia and the Baltics' instruments had been completely obliterated.

But perfect tuning was the opposite of what was needed to torture Austria. The Austrian's obsessive need for everything to be in tune made him very easy to torment by merely playing a note slightly off-key. But if _every string _was out of tune...France roughly turned the pegs on his viola without any regret.

When he finished, France quickly made his way back to the chair that Austria was tied to. There, the Austrian was protesting against being held captive. "I don't see vhy you have to humiliate me like zis! I never did anyzing to you!"

Prussia leaned against a chair. "You violated the Awesome Prussia rule! No one is allowed to be awesome or show off within fifty feet of ze Awesome Prussia, or else zey will be punished. And also, ve vere bored and vanted somezing to do."

Austria sniffed. "Like zat's a good reason to do anyzing. And your rule is dumb, by ze vay."

Spain laughed. "Another rule: don't ever put down the Awesome Prussia rule. Now you get more torture!"

The Austrian was about to retaliate when France approached him. "I have ze viola!"

Prussia smiled. "Good! Is it out of tune?"

"Oui," France said proudly. Picking up his bow, he began to drag it across the viola's strings.

* * *

The sound was like nothing else Austria had ever heard before. Every note was like fingers dragging across a chalkboard! France slid his fingers up and down the fingerboard, creating a noise that sounded like a cat wailing. He did that over and over again on his horribly out-of-tune instrument, smiling the whole time.

Then, the Frenchman began playing Marukaite Chikyuu...or at least tried to. With every peg turned as far as it could go, France's viola squeaked and shuddered until Austria could have sworn that the poor instrument would explode! The melody was nearly unrecognizable as France smushed his fingers onto the strings, making the sound even more dissonant and crude than anything the Austrian had ever heard before.

"Are you liking zis, Austria?" Prussia asked during a pause in the song. "You like music, so zis must be fun for you!"

Austria shook his head and tried not to listen. The music was just so _horrible_, not to mention France's sloppy technique grated against Austria's nerves.

When France's viola let out a particularly high-pitched squeak, Austria couldn't handle it anymore. "S-stop! Stop playing zis nonsense! I'll do anyzing, just _stop_!"

France stopped playing as Spain and Prussia broke into hysterical laughter. "Vhat's so funny?" asked Austria, massaging his ears.

"We...we recorded the whole _thing_!" howled Spain. "And we're going to post it online for everyone to see! Fusososososo!"

Austria sighed in annoyance. "Seriously? Zat's vhy you made me listen to zis horrific noise - just to post it _online_?"

"Yes, but zat's not all," Prussia said, grinning.

"Vhat more do you vant from me?" asked the Austrian.

"Vell, you said you'd do _anyzing _if France stopped playing, right?"

Austria nodded dubiously. "Y-yes…?"

Prussia's eyes flashed. "Awesome! So...do you own a Stradivarius, by any chance?"

* * *

_**Haha, Prussia's smarter than you think! I feel sorry for torturing Austria, though… :) There's this person in my orchestra class who hates when people play out of tune, and my friends always tease him by untuning their instruments. That's kind of where I got this idea from, plus it seemed like such a Prussia-like thing to do.**_

_**Glossary:**_

_**l'amour (French) - love**_

_**la Lettonie (French) - Latvia**_

_**When I learned that Latvia was 'la Lettonie' in French, I couldn't help but think about lettuce! Typical Latvia, having such an unfortunate name. And another funny thing about Latvia is that he is 15 years old, but he acts like a little kid! Kind of strange, huh? Of course, it could just be a side effect of living in Russia's house…**_

_**Sorry about such a long AN, but I have one more thing to say: if you've noticed a change in this fanfic, it's because I got rid of some of the, ah…"unnecessary" author's notes at the beginning of each chapter. I just thought they looked a little immature, in my opinion. :)**_

_**So...please review, follow, and favorite!**_


	9. Stradivarius

_**More of the BTT's escapades…**_

* * *

"So...do you own a Stradivarius, by any chance?" Prussia asked, smiling greedily at Austria.

Austria's jaw dropped. "Vhat ze heck?"

"I need a new violin, because I don't have one anymore," Prussia explained. "Stupid _Russia_ threw it in a trash can!" He stuck his tongue out in Russia's direction, but the large nation was too busy fighting off America to notice.

"I-I know vhat happened to your violin; I was zere," said Austria. He was still caught off guard by Prussia's question.

"Shut your mouth, you'll let the bow hair in," Prussia said gleefully to Austria, whose mouth was still hanging open.

"_Bow hair?_ I don't zink you're saying zat right…" Austria muttered, but shut his mouth in annoyance.

"Vhatever," Prussia said. "Anyvays, you never answered my question. Do you or don't you?"

Austria sighed, annoyed. He was uncomfortable from sitting so long in the chair, and the duct tape was beginning to itch. "Of course I have a Stradivarius. I have three. Vhy vould ze nation of music not have a Stradivarius?"

Prussia grinned. "_Wunderbar!_" He turned to Spain and France, who were sitting on chairs watching the whole thing. "Hear zat, guys? He has _three!_"

Spain and France clapped. "That's one for each of us!" Spain said happily.

In a fit of frustration, Austria strained against his bonds. "You're not getting all three, Prussia - you're not even getting one!"

Prussia walked over to Austria and put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Austria. Spain and France don't need a Stradivarius - France has a perfectly good viola, and Spain plays ze clarinet. I just vant one for ze awesome me!"

"Hey!" Spain complained, but France pointed to his clarinet which was lying on a chair.

"You don't need _un violon_, Spain, and neither do I. _La Prusse_ is right for once."

"For _once_?" Prussia yelled, and smirked. "Ze Awesome Prussia is _always _right!"

"Seriously?" Austria said, rolling his eyes. "And stop calling yourself 'awesome'. It's conceited."

Prussia shook his head in disbelief, as if the thought that someone would think he wasn't awesome was absurd. "Austria, you don't know vhat you're saying. But I'll get my Stradivarius, no matter vhat!"

"How vill you, if I don't give it to you?"

Prussia thought for a moment. "Blackmail," he said finally.

Austria raised an eyebrow. "Blackmail?"

Prussia grinned. "Of course! Zink of all ze times I've ever humiliated you, and imagine them posted online for everyone to see! Especially our little torture session from today." He adopted a high-pitched, mocking tone. "_S-stop, I'll do anyzing, just stop!_"

Austria frowned. "Zat's not vhat I sounded like."

"It could be; you don't know!" Prussia leaned against Austria's chair and thought some more. "Or, instead of blackmail, I could just _steal_ ze Stradivarius!"

"Zat's illegal," Austria replied, irritated. He really just wanted to take a nap.

"Zat never stopped me!" He chuckled to himself for a minute, then got a _brilliant_ idea. "Hey, Austria, I don't _really _vant your Stradivarius, you know."

Austria looked up in surprise. "Vhat - you don't?"

"Of course I don't! I'll probably just end up breaking it or selling it, and that vouldn't be good for such a _beautiful, expensive _instrument." He snickered under his breath. "But I've always vanted to _see_ a Stradivarius."

"You always vanted to _see _a Stradivarius…" Austria murmured. He had only a vague idea of where this was going, and that disturbed him greatly. "You mean-"

Prussia grinned. "Yep! I vant you to show me your Stradivarius!"

Austria, whose sullen expression hadn't changed at all since Prussia had asked him the question, nodded rather unconvincingly. "Fine, as long as you don't touch it or get near it," he said. "And you'll have to untie me from zis stupid chair."

Prussia smiled; this was going entirely to plan. "Of course, Austria. Of course."

* * *

The two nations walked cautiously to the corner of the room where Austria's violin case was, carefully trying to avoid being hit in the head by a flying bow...or Latvian, for that matter. Austria's violin case was hidden underneath what looked like hundreds of sheet music, all of which had the words RUSSIA'S CHARACTER SONG written on them.

"Pretty good hiding spot," Prussia observed, walking closer to the case as if to inspect it. He was quickly blocked, however, by an annoyed Austrian who held his arms out in front of the case.

"Oh no you don't!" Austria warned. "Ze only person who gets close to ze case is me." Prussia stuck his tongue out at Austria, but didn't bother talking back. His plan was working so far, and Prussia didn't want to ruin it by annoying the Austrian more than he already was.

Austria walked over to the case and opened it carefully, uncovering a beautiful, shiny violin. "Zis is a Stradivarius. It is vorth millions of dollars, and only ze best musicians own one."

Prussia looked down at the violin in awe. _He had to have this! But how? _Putting a fake, stupid smile on his face, he tapped Austria on the shoulder. "Austria, it's _amazing_! Can I _please_ touch it, just to run my fingers across the strings?" He laughed at how stupid he sounded, but quickly disguised it as a cough.

Austria looked at him curiously. "Um, I don't know! I mean, you've never seemed to have any interest in touching it before..."

Prussia's face strained with the force of his smile. "But I really _vant_ to touch ze Stradivarius! Not steal it, of course, just _touch _it. Please?" He said all this in a high-pitched voice meant to persuade Austria to let him near the violin.

Austria looked the Prussian up and down wearily. "Fine, but if you try to steal it…"

"I von't," promised Prussia. "...not," he whispered under his breath, smirking. Luckily, Austria didn't notice.

The Austrian stepped away from the violin case and warily allowed Prussia to come near. Prussia rushed up to the violin and began inspecting it, touching every string and running his fingers over the sleek, brown wood. He looked up at Austria as if looking for approval, and the Austrian smiled slightly. It seemed to him that Prussia wasn't as bad as he thought!

Then, Prussia seized the instrument and started running to the other side of the room. "Vhat ze-" said Austria in surprise, then rushed after the Prussian. "Come back! Give me my violin!"

Prussia turned his head and grinned at Austria. "Too late - it's mine!" he yelled, then ran to where France and Spain were standing. "Quick, give me a pen," he demanded. France pulled one out of his viola case, and Prussia hastily scribbled his name on the back of the violin.

Austria, breathing heavily from the exertion, eventually caught up to the Bad Touch Trio. "Give it...to me," he panted.

Prussia only smirked and turned the Stradivarius around to show Austria where he had written his name. He laughed as he saw Austria's indignant expression. "Mein Gott, how could you?" Austria cried. "You don't just _vrite your name _on a four-million-dollar violin!"

Prussia shrugged. "I guess zat means it's mine, then!" He turned the violin back around and showed it to Spain and France, who laughed.

Austria stomped his feet in frustration. "It's _mine!_" He tried to grab it out of Prussia's hands, but the Prussian quickly pulled it away.

"You have two more," he said, grinning. "And I don't have any. It's only fair." Spain and France nodded their heads in agreement.

Austria's face turned an angry shade of red, then the nation stomped off towards the piano. "...need to play Chopin," he mumbled, shooting a dirty look back at Prussia.

Prussia snorted. "Zat showed _him_! And now I have a violin again!" He happily stroked his new Stradivarius and played a couple notes. "I can't vait for zis war to end, so I can play zis! I _am _ze awesome first chair, you know."

France raised a finger. "Actually, Canada is ze first chair…"

Prussia shook his head. "Who cares? I got my awesome Stradivarius, zat's all zat matters!"

* * *

_**Oh, Prussia, always so tricky. Only he would write his name on a four-million-dollar instrument. :) I actually found a picture that describes this chapter perfectly! Just take out all the spaces and type it into the search bar.**_

**_images6 . fanpop [dot com]/image/photos/32900000/-Prussia-Plays-The-Violin-hetalia-32901660-500-218. jpg_**

_**Please review, follow, and favorite!**_


	10. Communist Superpowers

_**I'm sorry; I'm a few days late with this chapter. I don't own Hetalia.**_

* * *

The graceful music floated from the piano and swept through the air, setting an exquisite soundtrack for a heated war. China shut his eyes and listened intently. The music moved him in a way nothing had before, which was one of the reasons why he absolutely _had _to be the conductor!

Swinging his wok in time with the beat, China aimed for Russia's head and let go. The wok spun through the air towards the large Russian...and missed. Russia had stepped easily out of the way. "Stupid wok-aru!" China yelled in frustration, stomping his feet.

The Chinese man wasn't doing too well in the war, even with America on his side. This was mainly because Russia, for all his intimidating size, was extremely light on his feet. It was like he'd been a ballerina in another life...or was he one now? China made a mental note to ask the Baltics about that later.

Ducking an attack from Russia's faucet pipe, China glanced towards the piano, expecting to see a peaceful Austria concentrating hard on the music. Instead, the Austrian's face was red with anger. He scowled and banged hard on the keys, yet the sound they produced was still beautiful.

_How was that even possible_? China wondered, shaking his head in disbelief. The strange thing about Austria was that he could play almost any song well, even when he was angry. And he seemed to be really angry right now...

China turned away from the piano and stepped towards Russia, getting his wok ready for another attack. But his leg caught on something and the Chinese man stumbled, nearly falling flat on his face before quickly regaining his balance and dignity.

"What was that-aru?" he asked angrily, searching the floor for a fallen instrument or a pile of sheet music. But instead, China saw an embarrassed American looking up at him with a hamburger in his hand.

"Hehe, sorry, China," America apologized meekly from the floor.

"What the heck-aru are you doing on the floor, America?" China shouted. He could see Russia giggle out of the corner of his eye. _Great_, _now I look stupid._

"Eatin' a hamburger," said the American with his mouth full. He swallowed and burped rudely, then took another bite.

"But you're supposed to be helping me fight!" China said in disbelief. "And it's not even lunch break yet-aru!"

"It is for me," America said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

A smug Prussia strutted over to the two nations, holding what looked like an expensive violin. "Geez," he said, laughing. "America's almost as bad as Italy!"

All heads turned to the Italian, who was lying on the floor doing nothing but eating pasta. "Ve~" Italy said dreamily.

Prussia turned to look back at China, whose scowling expression was that of frustration. "Wow, China, you need to calm down," he remarked in surprise. "You look just like Austria vhen you're angry!"

China scowled. "It's just that I think I'm losing this stupid war-aru!"

"I'll help," Prussia offered.

"You don't have a weapon," said America from the floor.

The Prussian held his violin up high. "Zis," he announced proudly, "is a four-million dollar Stradivarius. And it's also going to be my veapon in ze var! Kesesesesesese!"

At the piano, Austria banged his head on the keys, causing the music to become dissonant and ugly. Then, the tinkling Chopin etude started up again.

"You're not going to use a _violin _to fight with in the war, Prussia," China said. "You'll lose within a second."

"Never underestimate ze awesome Prussia!" Prussia ran off, laughing as he went.

"Wait, where'd he go?" asked America.

China sighed. "Oh, who knows?" He turned around to see Prussia sneaking up behind an unsuspecting Russia, violin held up like a weapon. "Uh-oh…"

"This can't end well," America murmured.

Prussia moved the violin towards Russia to hit his head with it, but the Russian reached behind him and grabbed it with both hands, yanking it away from Prussia. "Kolkolkolkolkolkol," he growled.

China's mouth dropped open in surprise. "How did Russia even know that was going to happen?"

"Communist superpowers," said America.

"Seriously, America? Just be quiet."

America stuck his tongue out at China, but he shut his mouth anyway.

* * *

Prussia grabbed at the violin in Russia's hand. "Hey, give me zat!"

The Russian held the violin out of Prussia's reach and grinned. "It is mine now, da?" he said happily.

"No! Vhat ze heck, you don't even _play _ze violin! And I don't trust you vith it anyway, because you broke my other one!"

Over at the piano, Austria yelled, "Now you know how I feel, _dumm Preußen_!"

Prussia ignored the angry Austrian. "Give it to me," he yelled again at Russia. But the Russian suddenly sprinted off with the instrument. Prussia followed, cursing angrily and stumbling over his feet.

"Stupid...Russia!" he panted as the two nations ran around the room.

"Is it just me, or does this feel like _déjà vu_ to you?" America said to China.

China shrugged. "Honestly, I didn't notice."

Prussia chased Russia through a maze of chairs, dodging other nations that were in the way. Romano and Spain seemed to be arguing over a tomato, and Poland was painting three violins with pink paint.

"I've nearly got you!" taunted Prussia, as he drew closer to Russia. But Russia just giggled and ran faster.

Prussia was so busy cursing at Russia that he didn't see the large pile of sheet music that blanketed the floor in front of the two nations. Russia easily jumped over it, but Prussia stumbled and nearly fell. Catching himself just in time, he skidded on the music until he was just an inch away from Russia.

Now_ this is going well_, he thought, and reached out to grab the violin away from the Russian. _Almost there...so close…_

Russia swerved and Prussia tripped over the sheet music, grabbing at anything to keep him from falling. He ended up with a long piece of cloth held in his hands…

* * *

China brought his hands to his mouth in shock. "_Aiyah,_ Prussia just pulled Russia's scarf off!

America pursed his lips. "Ooh, I told you this wouldn't end well for him."

The Chinese man began to pace around America, wringing his hands. "Once Russia's scarf comes off, he's practically a monster! He'll destroy the whole room; you saw what he did to Latvia-aru!"

America pondered this for a moment. "So...we have to find a way to distract Russia?"

"Exactly! But how?"

The American grinned. "I have an idea, but it involves asking a certain nation for a favor..."

* * *

_**Uh-oh, Russia had better watch out! And Prussia, too, for that matter. **_

_**Translations: **_

_**dumm Preußen (German) - stupid Prussia**_

_**Aiyah (Chinese) - Oh no**_

_**Thanks to all the people who followed, favorited, and reviewed so far; it makes my day every time you do so! :) **_


	11. Mystery Nation

_**And the mystery nation is… **_

* * *

Belarus sat on a stool backstage with her arms crossed, scowling at the ground. When she heard footsteps approaching, she looked up hopefully. _Russia?_

No, it was that stupid American and the person who says "aru" all the time. America was panting and muttering about needing more exercise_, _and China looked annoyed. "There you are! We've been searching all over for you!" he said.

Belarus glared coldly at the nations. "What do you want?"

"We need your help," said China. A scream sounded from the stage, and the Chinese man flinched.

Belarus shrugged. "Why should I help _you_?"

China opened his mouth to reply, but America spoke first. "Hey, why are you backstage instead of in the orchestra? We walked around for _five whole minutes_ looking for you."

"America, that's rude," China berated a little too late.

The American made a face. "I don't care; I want to know!"

Adjusting the bow in her hair, Belarus glowered. "Fine, I'll tell you - the stupid conductor wouldn't let me in."

America did a double-take. "S-stupid conductor?" he sputtered, suppressing a laugh.

"Yes," said Belarus. "I couldn't even see who it was, but I'm sure it was someone dumb like Lithuania."

"Lithuania would actually _want _you to be in the orchestra," China muttered under his breath, but luckily Belarus didn't hear.

The Belarusian continued, twirling around on her stool. "I guess the conductor didn't want singers like me in the orchestra or something. Why else would they not allow me to come in?"

America laughed. "Are you sure being a singer is the reason why the conductor wouldn't let you in?"

Belarus raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"You do know who the conductor is, right?" asked America, grinning.

"Um…"

"We need your help!" China interrupted, shooting a nasty look at America.

Belarus looked confused. "Uh, why?" she said, glancing at the American.

America snorted, still amazed that Belarus didn't know that _Russia _was the conductor. "Hurry up and tell her," China muttered, and America rolled his eyes and turned to Belarus.

"The orchestra room is in great danger," he explained dramatically. "And you're the only one who can save us!"

The Belarusian snorted. "You want me to help _you_? After I already told you that I wasn't allowed in the orchestra room, you want me to _save _it?"

"Uh, yes, that's right."

"No." Belarus scowled and turned her back to the two nations. "No way!"

"Please?" asked China. "It'll give you a chance to chase Russia!"

Belarus turned back around with a _swish_. "Wait, what?" she asked, eyes gleaming.

America explained. "We want you to, ah, make Russia run away. So you have our permission to do anything you want with him - chase him, kidnap him-"

"Marry him?" Belarus asked hopefully.

"Sure, I guess you can marry him if it does the job. And after he leaves, you can sing in the orchestra!"

Belarus scowled skeptically. "Really? But what about the conductor?"

China chuckled. "Ah, we will deal with...'the conductor' ourselves."

The Belarusian jumped off her stool. "Okay, I guess I'll do it then," she muttered and ran off towards the stage, where she could be heard emitting a Russia-esque giggle.

America looked nervously at her retreating back. "Um, should I be scared?" he asked China.

"Usually, yes. But she's on our side now...I hope."

* * *

Prussia gazed at the scarf in his hands with wide eyes. "Oh no," he breathed. "Zis is going to be bad." He glanced across the room to where a scarfless Russia was running with the Stradivarius in his hands, blissfully unaware of what had just happened.

"Maybe," said Prussia to himself, "I can hide ze scarf so he von't know zat I have it!" He grinned. "Yes, zat could vork."

Spotting a table stocked with sheet music nearby, the Prussian scrambled over with the scarf hidden in his shirt. He furtively lifted up the tablecloth and was in the process of stuffing the long scarf underneath when a cold hand grabbed his shoulder. "Vha-_Russia?"_

Russia's normally cheery face was red with anger. "Give me the scarf," he growled.

Prussia swallowed nervously. "Vh-vhat scarf? I haven't seen any scarf!" He pulled the same innocent face that he had used to trick Austria earlier.

It didn't work. "You know what scarf I'm talking about, Prussia," the Russian said sternly. He moved towards the table and began lifting the tablecloth.

"_NEIN!_" Prussia yelled desperately. Russia couldn't know that he had his scarf, or else..._bad things _would happen to him.

Russia frowned. "Why not?" he asked, leaning closer until all Prussia could smell was his horrible borscht breath. "Do you know something I don't know?"

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean-" Prussia could see why the Baltics were so scared of Russia; this guy was _creepy_!

"Give me it, and nothing bad will happen to you, _da_?" said Russia. A purple aura began to form around the nation, and he let out a soft _kolkolkol_.

"Ah, I-I…" Prussia's mind raced. Was there any way to outsmart the Russian?

Russia's growl got louder. The Baltics yelped and hid under a chair, and Russia turned his head towards them and grinned, showing all of his creepy teeth.

That's when Prussia saw it - the Stradivarius held tightly in Russia's right hand. _Aha!_ Seizing his chance, he reached forward and carefully grabbed the expensive violin with both hands.

With a sadistic growl, Russia snapped his head around to face the Prussian. His face contorted into a grotesque smile. "Oh, so that's how you want to do it, _da_?"

Prussia tried to scowl and look tough, but couldn't stop himself from trembling involuntarily_. _He shuddered; acting like the weak Baltics was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He slowly backed away from Russia.

In a flash, Russia's arm shot out and caught the back of his neck, making Prussia choke and sputter. "H-hey, vhat-"

Russia squeezed Prussia's neck harder. "This will teach you not to take my scarf!"

Prussia struggled until black dots danced in front of his eyes, hitting and kicking the Russian to no avail. He began to turn blue.

All the other nations looked on in horror. Lithuania covered Latvia's eyes, and Italy whimpered and turned away. Austria just chuckled and played suspenseful music on the piano.

Prussia was close to unconsciousness as he gasped for breath, but Russia wouldn't let go. His eerie _kolkolkol_ echoed throughout the room.

_BANG! _A loud noise from backstage startled the nations, and every country glanced nervously towards the door to the stage. _BANG! _The door had a huge dent, and looked as if it was about to be broken down. _BANG!_ Austria stopped playing and put a hand to his ear.

The door shuddered and shook, then opened, allowing a screaming nation to run onto the stage.

* * *

Belarus screamed as she ran towards Russia. "MARRY ME, BIG BROTHER! MARRY ME!" She wielded a gleaming knife that looked extremely sharp, swinging it from side to side.

Russia gasped and let go of a half-conscious Prussia, who crawled off to hide under a chair with the Baltics. His eyes went wide. "B-belarus? I thought I said you weren't allowed in here!"

"Well, I'm here now!" announced the blonde nation. She approached Russia and held her knife under his chin almost seductively. "Become one with me, _di?_"

"I-I-" Russia stuttered, then he turned tail and ran towards the door, snatching up his scarf as he fled.

"Wait, Big Brother, you have to sign our marriage documents," Belarus cried, running after the Russian and waving a piece of paper in the air. Russia sped offstage and slammed the door behind him, hastily locking it, but Belarus cut a large hole in the door with her knife and followed him out of the concert hall.

Russia's screams and cries for help got quieter and quieter as the Slavic siblings disappeared into the distance.

* * *

Back onstage, the nations sat in stunned silence. "Did I just see what I think I did?" asked Romano.

"I...honestly don't know," Spain replied.

Latvia shuddered underneath the Baltics' chair. "I-is it over?"

Lithuania patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I g-guess."

With a loud whoop, America began to dance around the room. "We did it! We did it!"

England glared at him. "Did what?"

"You really don't know? We won the war! China's the conductor now!"

China's jaw dropped. "Wait, I won?"

The American looked surprised. "Well, _obviously_! I mean, Russia did run away, right?"

A smile formed on the Chinese man's face. "Yeah, I guess I _did_ win!" He pulled his red conductor's baton out of his pocket. "We'll have to start rehearsing right away, to make up for all the time we lost fighting in the war-aru."

England made a face. "Just so you know, America, I was on Russia's side."

"Oh, who cares? WE WON! WE WON! WE WON!"

* * *

_**And the war ends with a bang...literally! But just because the war is over doesn't mean the story has to stop! Next chapter will most likely be about...Sealand! (although I can't make any promises). :)**_

_**Translations:**_

_**Nein (German) - no**_

_**Di (Belarusian) - yes**_

_**Happy holidays, everybody! :)**_


	12. The Nordic 6?

_**Introducing...the Nordics and Sealand! **_

_**Thanks to Mocha-mono for her tips on writing the Nordics! **_

* * *

Sealand flipped through the channels on the TV in the Nordics' house, sighing as he saw the same boring shows pop up over and over again. He groaned and leaned back on the couch.

"There's nothing to do," he complained loudly. "All my friends aren't around, and I'm soooo bored!"

Sweden glanced up from his newspaper, "Be qu'et," he said, putting his finger to his lips, then went back to reading about an upcoming Hetalia Day celebration that would be held in Vienna.

"Don't shush me!" Sealand protested. "I wouldn't even be sitting here if I could be doing something fun!"

Finland walked in just then, holding an envelope. "Hey Sve, look what just came in the mail!"

The Swede looked up. "Wh't is it?"

Finland shrugged. "I don't know, but it looks fancy, like some sort of invitation or something."

"Ooh, an invitation! Can I see?" Sealand asked, jumping up from the couch. He grabbed for the letter in Finland's hand.

"Woah, don't do that!" Finland said, stepping back in surprise. "You have a lot of energy today - why don't you go off to play with your friends? Is Latvia around?"

"No," Sealand said in annoyance. "He told me yesterday that he's going to Austria, of all places! Why would someone like him want to go to Austria?"

Finland shrugged. "Maybe Russia forced him to go. Who knows? But could you please just run around outside or something? Sve and I want to look at this letter."

Sealand made a face. "Oh, whatever. Fine." He left the room, muttering angry words under his breath.

* * *

Once Sealand was out of the room, Finland opened the letter, both he and Sweden looking curiously at the slanted cursive writing on the page. "_Congratulations, you have...been invited to play in the Hetalia Symphony Orchestra for Hetalia Day!_" Finland read aloud, grinning. "Hey, that's pretty cool! I'll get to break out my old oboe!"

Sweden held out a hand. "C'n I see?"

"Sure." Finland handed him the letter, and the Swede read it carefully, going over it a few times with his eyes.

He frowned. "Look at th't," he said, pointing to a sentence.

"What?" Finland looked to see where Sweden was pointing, and read aloud again. "_Please arrive at the Vienna Konzerthaus in Austria at exactly 9:00 in the morning._" He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong with that?"

Just then, Denmark burst into the room, shouting at the top of his lungs. "IT'S EIGHT THIRTY, TIME TO WAKE UP! COME ON, EVERYBODY, WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Finland stared at the Dane in confusion. "What do you mean, 'wake up'? We're all awake!"

Denmark smirked. "Not Norway!" He bounced away, giggling and shouting. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Finland and Sweden glanced at each other. Norway was going to be _furious!_

Sure enough, Norway's annoyed yells soon resonated through the house. "What the heck, Denmark!? It's only eight thirty in the morning!"

"So?" Denmark said. "Time to wake up and start the day!"

There was a groan and a loud curse, and then a disgruntled Norway sped down the stairs in his pajamas, grabbing for Denmark's tie to strangle him.

Denmark grinned. "Hey, Nor-AAAAAAHHHH!" he yelled as the tie wound around his neck.

Finland chuckled at what seemed to be becoming an everyday event in this house, then frowned. "Wait, what time did Denmark say it was again?"

The Swede looked at his watch. "Eight th'rty."

"Oh no! The rehearsal starts at nine!" Finland looked panickedly at Sweden. "What should we do?"

"Let's go," Sweden stated simply.

* * *

It took nearly twenty minutes just to pack all the Nordics' instruments into the car. "Denmark, why the heck do you have to put that tuba in the front seat?" asked an annoyed Norway.

Denmark shrugged. "It needs a seatbelt," he said. Norway facepalmed, but made no more protest. Instead, he concentrated on lifting his English horn case into the trunk of the car.

Iceland walked over, lugging a giant double bass. "Where should I put this?"

"In the tr'nk," said Sweden, who had already placed his trombone in there a few minutes ago next to with Finland's oboe. After all the instruments were safely secured, he closed up the trunk and all the Nordics got into the car.

Finland started the engine. "We're off!" he said happily. All the Nordics cheered.

But then he remembered _Sealand!_ He cursed under his breath. The young boy was standing in the middle of the driveway, holding a large suitcase. "Hey, Finland!" he said breathlessly.

"Sealand, what are you doing here?" asked the Finn, rolling down his car window.

"I want to go with you, wherever you're going!" Sealand picked up his suitcase and lugged it over to the car, grunting with every step. "Can I come in?"

"Well…" Finland considered.

"No, you don't ev'n pl'y an instr'm'nt!" Sweden said, glaring at the young boy.

"Play an instrument? What do you mean?" Sealand asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

"We're going to an orchestra rehearsal," said Norway, who was still bleary-eyed from being woken up twenty minutes ago. "And…" he checked his watch. "We're officially late."

"Come on, we gotta go!" said Denmark, kicking Finland's seat.

"Hey, _I_ want to play an instrument!" Sealand whined. "Let me come!"

"No," Sweden said. "Why d'n't you pl'y outs'de?"

Sealand sulked. "I already did that today, and it's _boring_!"

"_Seal'nd_," Sweden warned.

The young boy stuck out his tongue at Sweden, then all the Nordics watched in surprise as his face suddenly lit up. "Fine," Sealand said. "I guess I'll just...stay home." His mouth twitched. "Yeah, I'll do that. Goodbye, everyone! Have fun, now! See ya soon!" He turned to walk away.

Finland honked the car horn. "Wait, Sealand-"

"What?"

Finland had thought something seemed a bit..._fishy_ about Sealand's sudden obedience, but then he saw that the time was 8:59 and they weren't even out of the driveway yet! He decided to think no more about the whole Sealand thing. "Never mind."

Sealand giggled a little. "Okay, whatever you say!" He hurried back towards the house, and Finland started the car again and pulled slowly out of the driveway.

* * *

Sealand smiled to himself. Finally, he can put his plan into action! The boy had decided while talking to the Nordics that he would sneak into the car...and now he just needed to figure out how to do it.

He peeked around a large tree to find that the Nordics' car had stopped. Someone was singing at an extremely loud volume, and another person was yelling at the singer. _Probably Denmark and Norway_, Sealand thought, grinning. This would be the perfect time to make his move.

The boy creeped out from behind the tree and snuck towards the car, making sure to stay out of sight. His suitcase, packed with clothing and everything else he needed in order to stay in Vienna for a few days, banged against his legs.

Denmark's singing eventually stopped, and Sealand allowed himself to dart a few steps closer to the car. _So close_! He did a little victory dance in his mind; he was about to show the Nordics that they couldn't tell him what to do!

The car's engine started up again, and before Sealand could even blink, it had travelled almost to the end of the driveway! _What the heck?_

_Wait up! _Sealand's chance to go to the rehearsal was disappearing right before his eyes! He would have to run faster than he ever had if he wanted to catch up to the car.

Sealand took a deep breath, eyes narrowed in determination. _He _would _go to Vienna! _He dashed almost unsteadily down the driveway, cursing his too-big suitcase for slowing him down.

The car turned out of the driveway and began driving down the street. With a frustrated yell, Sealand _threw _his suitcase into the lawn. He then sped down the driveway and into the street, heart pounding.

"Hey! Be careful!" A man in a car, one of the Nordics' neighbors, swerved wildly to avoid hitting Sealand.

Sealand paid the man no mind, only focusing on one thing: catching up to the Nordics' car. Up ahead, the car slowed, then came to a full stop at a stop sign. _This was his chance!_

He poured everything he had into this last stretch of the chase. Sweating and panting, Sealand sprinted up to the car, quietly opened the trunk, and pulled himself inside, ducking behind an instrument case.

_He did it! He was safe! _And now, all he had to do was be quiet during the drive all the way to Austria.

And, as he realized with a grin a few moments later, Norway was still wearing his pajamas.

* * *

_**This was my first time ever writing the Nordics! I'm really starting to like them - it's so much fun to try out new characters.**_

_**I imagine the Nordics driving to Austria instead of flying on a plane, because they seem like they would enjoy a good road trip. :) **_

_**Please review, follow, and favorite!**_


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